


The Last Pie

by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8143955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/peanutbutterjelly-pie
Summary: After a very shitty week Dean just wants to enjoy some delicious pie, but fate has got other plans._





	

Dean sighs in relief when he enters his favorite bakery.

It's Friday night, just about ten minutes before closing time, and he's more than happy that he arrived on time. Considering his _very_ shitty week – a broken-down computer system, clients bitching at him colorfully because of an error other people made beforehand, _two_ busted tires within three days and the constant headache that was driving him insane utterly slowly and quite cruelly – he never thought luck could be on his side again.

The shop is empty beside the nice cashier Chloe – a single mom who never once loses her smile despite the daily stress of managing three hyperactive kids, her full-time job and a frustrating ex-husband – and a single customer in front of him, already standing at the counter and looking intently at the display.

Dean plasters a grin on his face – 'cause that's what Chloe deserves after all – and tries to suppress all the fucking shit that's boiling inside of him for a few minutes and instead enjoys the sight of that delicious apple pie behind the glass, waving him hello.

There is nothing better than a great slice of apple pie to heal his painful and itchy wounds.

Dean can feel his features softening a bit and his muscles protest, too used to scowling for the last few days to remember how a decent human being should function.

His stomach, however, recalls quite vividly the taste of some delicious pastry because it starts to growl instantly, demanding to taste the sweet texture without further notice. Dean catches himself whispering to it quietly to wait just a short while and he would have felt outright stupid if he'd have some energy left to do so.

“The apple pie, please,” the guy in front of him says to Chloe.

His voice is surprisingly deep, as if he likes to gargle some stones in his free time, and Dean feels a shiver running through his body although he actually assumed his libido would have died two days ago when Slimy Bernie offered him a 'fun time' in the closet out of the blue as if they've done this before at some point.

“Coming right up,” Chloe answers cheerfully (and she sounds actually sincere – Dean's got no idea how she manages that without going crazy) before she grabs the pie and starts to pack it into a box. “You're lucky, it's the last one for today.”

Dean just shuffles on his feet and begins to wonder whether there would be huge traffic back home or if he'd be lucky once –

 _Wait_!

The _last_ apple pie?

Dean tenses up and curses underneath his breath. _No, no, no, no!_

It would have been perfect – a really tasty pie and the newest episodes of _Dr. Sexy_ while wearing some comfy sweatpants and not giving a crap about fucking work for a few hours. At least one good thing out of this _freaking disaster_ of a week!

But _of course_ destiny had other plans.

Figures.

He continues swearing, a bit louder this time, and so he doesn't notice the man in front of him turning around until he's suddenly confronted with so much _blue_ it makes Dean's stomach flutter in a way he hadn't felt for a very long time. And he needs a moment to realize he's watching into a pair of goddamned beautiful eyes which just can't be for real. They seem way too inhuman.

“Um ...” he says, feeling more eloquent than ever.

“Can I help you?” the man asks and _shit_ , his voice sounds even deeper now. How is that even possible?

Dean just stares at him – the chiseled jaw, the magnificent stubble, the sex hair – for way too long, feeling utterly stupid and immature, but he just can't help himself. He isn't even able to remember how to blink.

Thankfully – after an embarrassing amount of time – at least his vocal cords start to work again.

“Uh … how was your week?” he asks, kinda proud of his marginally stable voice.

The guy blinks, obviously confused. “What?”

“How was your week, um …?”

“Castiel,” the man offers, still bewildered.

“I'm Dean,” he introduces himself, smiling faintly. “And it's a simple enough question, right? So, how was your week?”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “It was … fine,” he says tentatively.

“That's great to hear,” Dean tells him ( _absolutely sincere,_ by the way, since this gorgeous supernatural being doesn't deserve one single bad day in his life). “Okay, listen, usually I'm a perfectly reasonable guy, I swear. Just ask Chloe over there, I'm a model citizen.” Chloe snorts at those words before hastily pretending to be busy again. “But my week had been _utter trash_! Seriously, I'm not exaggerating or whatever, it's the cold, sad truth. I actually feel like crying right now. It was a freaking nightmare and I'm quite sure it won't be better next week.”

Dean takes a deep breath, forcing himself not to think about that. “And all I wanted for today was a delicious slice of pie, you know? And I was _so happy_ that I made it here on time because I got actually convinced this past week that some powerful, mighty being might hate me or something, turning my days on earth into goddamned hell!”

Castiel's expression softens, his eyes flickering in understanding. “And then I snatched the last pie away from you,” he realizes.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you kinda did,” he admits. “I mean, I don't blame you, pie is the best thing ever and has got the power to brighten up even the worst of days. I even wrote some poems about it in my high school days …” And wow, _why the fuck_ is he telling this absolutely mortifying story to a total stranger? “Uh … I just … would you mind giving it to me instead? I really need it today!” And as a afterthought he quickly adds, “Of course I'd pay you! Even more than you just paid Chloe, so we both would get something out of it.”

Dean smiles faintly and is very keen not to think about how pathetic he must sound right now!

Here he is, begging the most gorgeous guy in existence to sell him some pie he only bought twenty seconds ago! Dean can't remember the last time he had been so fucking horrified of himself and he probably would have run away instantly if hunger and exhaustion wouldn't have kept him in place.

“Dean …” Castiel's voice sounds gentle and Dean can't help but think that he likes how this man is saying his name. “I actually don't care that much about pie. Well, I enjoy it, but obviously not as much as you ...”

Dean feels a flicker of hope burst inside of him.

“However, this pie is not meant for me,” Castiel says, seemingly very apologetic. “I can't give it to you.”

Dean's shoulders sag. “Oh.”

“I would,” Castiel hastily tells him. “Believe me, I would give it to you immediately. But I got this pie for someone very important and I can't let her down.”

Now Dean feels a different kind of disappointment. “Let me guess: This pie is for your pregnant wife and I'm the biggest asshole ever for trying to snap it up right out of your hands?”

Yeah, it's official: This week is, without any doubt, the worst ever!

But Castiel shakes his head. “No, I have no significant other,” he explains. “It's for my niece, Claire. She broke her leg two weeks ago and since then she's been very brave, never complaining once. But today she sent me a text, wondering if I could get her some pie.” He sighs deeply. “It's the first thing she asked for since the accident and I certainly can't deny her this simple wish. I drove to three different bakeries – all already closed – until I found this one. I felt very lucky since I didn't want to buy one from the store. Hell, I even would have made her one myself if I would have been necessary.”

Dean closes his eyes for a second and takes a deep breath. “So I was trying to talk you out of a pie meant for a _sick kid_?” He groans in frustration. “God, that's even worse!”

Castiel chuckles quietly. “You didn't know.”

Dean rubs his temples and avoids the guy's intense stare. “I'll just … go. And hide myself beneath some covers or something.” He grimaces. “I'm so sorry, man. Just forget I've ever been here, okay?”

He's about to turn away and disappear – no matter how hard that would have been –, but then Castiel says, “Dean!”, his tone so warm Dean feels his insides clench.

“Yeah?”

Castiel hesitates a moment, obviously unsure how to proceed, until he eventually decides to announce, “Claire doesn't need the _whole_ pie.”

Dean raises his brow, watching the guy intently. “What?”

“It's late evening,” Castiel continues, pointing at the already darkened sky outside as if Dean might have missed the event by any chance. “Claire doesn't need the whole pie. It'd be way too much sugar anyway, her parents would kill me.”

Before Dean is able to protest (because he really doesn't care, he's just not capable of stealing a tasty pie from a child!) Castiel hands the box to Chloe, whispering to her that she should cut the thing in half.

“Please, no,” Dean begs. “That's really not necessary.”

Castiel smiles at him and it's so fucking brilliant that Dean loses his brain functions for a split second. “It's quite alright, Dean. This way I can make two people happy.”

Dean's heartbeat picks up its pace. “But Claire …”

“Like I said, she can't eat everything tonight anyway,” Castiel explains calmly. “And tomorrow the bakeries are going to be open again and I will buy her as much pie as she wants. It's not a big deal, Dean.”

Dean just nods, feeling kinda dazed and not sure how to react. Before he knows it Castiel presses a tiny box into his hands.

“Here, for you!” Castiel announces, smiling. “I hope you'll like it and your weekend will be much more enjoyable than your previous week.”

Dean just stares at him for a second before eventually reality kicks in. “I need to pay you,” he recalls.

Castiel merely shakes his head. “It's okay, Dean.”

“No, no,” Dean protests instantly. “I can't ...”

Castiel pulls something that looks like a business card out of his pocket and places it on top of Dean's box. “You could just pay for the next one.”

Dean blinks. “Uh … the next one?”

“This one has my private phone number,” Castiel says, looking pointedly at the card. “Just call me the next time you feel an overwhelming need for pie and buy one for me as well.”

Dean feels a steady flush spreading across his cheeks and ignores Chloe giggling in the background. “Well … that probably won't take long. I eat a lot of pie.”

Castiel grins broadly as if that's the best news ever. “I'll look forward to it.”

Dean shuffles his feet, being more nervous than ten years ago when he asked the beautiful girl in his chemistry class out to prom. “Um … we could eat it together, you know? Here, I mean.”

Castiel's expression brightens even more. “I would love that.”

Dean simply smiles in return and for a while they just stare at each other, forgetting anything around them. It seems like Castiel is examining his soul, thorough and very intense, and to his own surprise Dean is perfectly okay with that.

But eventually Castiel interrupts the moment by clearing his throat and saying, “I'm sorry, but I really need to go to Claire.”

Dean jerks like he just woke up from a nice dream. “Oh yeah … sure,” he mutters. “I hope she'll get well soon.”

“The pie will probably help,” Castiel says. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Goodbye, Cas,” Dean tells him, only afterwards noticing that he used a nickname without asking for permission first, but Castiel looks very pleased with it, so Dean refrains from apologizing.

Dean stares after him when Castiel leaves the bakery, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder and beaming like the sun itself.

And Dean … well, he quickly tugs the business card at a safe place because there is no way in hell he'd lose it.

“This was way better than the last ten rom-coms I watched,” Chloe announces, highly amused.

Dean grits his teeth, but he can't bring himself to feel embarrassed or even angry, he's way too giddy for that. “You're very welcome.”

And he actually is.

Damn, he wouldn't even have cared if his whole family plus friends, acquaintances, colleagues and his nasty English teacher from middle school would have witnessed this scene. It only matters that it happened in the first place.

And that night, when he sits at home on his comfortable couch, _Dr. Sexy_ on the screen and a plate with a delicious slice of pie in his hands, he's unable to stop grinning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For more Destiel and Supernatural you can visit my [tumblr](http://all-i-need-is-destiel.tumblr.com) ^^


End file.
